The Darkness and the Past
by Yuna McHill
Summary: Coco AU/FT (Future Timeline). Miguel gets kidnapped by three brothers who are illegitimate offsprings of Ernesto de la Cruz and bent on revenge on what he has done to their name. Can a retired cop and the dead Riveras find the boy before it's too late for him?
1. Chapter 1

**The Darkness and the Past**

AN: Dearies, dearies, dearies... Welcome to another story, created by a wicked spell-bound feather and bewitched thoughts. Coco, in my opinion one of the best movies Pixar has ever created, is now the victim of my crazy mind and they are all in for a wild and emotional ride. *Please, Riveras! Don't hurt me with your shoes! I still love you, so much!*

I don't have any rights for COCO, except for the delusional original characters in this. And now get your flashlights and charms ready, as we venture into... The Darkness and the Past.

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The sun was already starting to sink behind the mountain line surrounding the little town of Santa Cecilia, colouring the sky and the clouds in various shades of pink, orange and red. A slight wind had come up, cooling the faces of the musicians at the Plaza Mariachi, who had played there all day, including a young boy sitting atop a wall, a guitar in his lap. _Miguel._

He smiled brightly, revealing a little gap in his teeth and a dimple on the left corner of his mouth as he thankfully turned his bronze coloured face into the crisp air blowing from the mountains. Miguel Rivera gently picked up his handmade guitar, running his fingers over the colourful details he decorated it with. They reminded him of the ornaments on the skeletal face of his beloved _papá_. Héctor...

He gave the cords a strum. Letting out a happy sigh, the boy cleared his throat and started to sing. He had been working on new songs, still taking refuge in his hide-out, although his family now openly accepted music in the household, for work and inspiration. The song he was singing now had been one of the first ones he had written after arriving back in the living world.

It spoke of love through the ages, the importance of remembering and family. After the song had ended, Miguel put down the instrument and – seemingly out of impulse – extended a hand, only to blindly grasp air beside him. "Wasn't that good, Dante? What do you think, boy? Dante?", he asked, but only the wind answered him.

The boy winced a little and laid his head back. He thought of everything that had happened, how it had changed his whole life forever. After his unexpected visit to the other side, something frightening and at the same time awe-inspiring had occurred. The young Rivera had discovered that he could see ghosts. Not only perceive their energy, but actually see their appearances and even talk to them if he wanted. At first, he had been scared out of his wits, but he had soon learned to enjoy it and be proud of his exceptional gift.

Although his new-found psychic abilities had given him the peace of mind that he had truly saved his _papá_ Héctor, he still felt miserable at times. Sometimes, Miguel missed his dead family so much that he would lay curled up on his bed all day, just crying, refusing to do anything. He would miss Imelda, his fiery but good-hearted _mamá_ , alongside her impressive alebrije Pepita, his sweet _tía_ Rosita... and Dante. His brave and loyal xolo friend had been forced to stay behind in the Land of the Dead, since he had officially become a spirit guide. Miguel was a strong believer in destiny, but still he sometimes wished everything had gone so very different...

Miguel felt tears trickling down his face. He decided that this was one of his more 'sensible' days. The boy wiped his wet eyes with his sleeve and jumped from the wall, securing his guitar on his back with a strap. "Papá Héctor wouldn't want me to cry...", he told himself, like every time that he lost control over his emotions. It was starting to get increasingly dark and he wanted to get home before his parents chewed him out on being late. And not even speaking of his abuelita... Miguel decided to take one of his short-cuts he had frequently used to get from his house to the plaza in the past. He felt confident as he jogged through the rows of dark unused houses. He was already nearing the end of it, when...

"Got you, you little scum!", a rough voice behind him suddenly sneered and for a few seconds, he couldn't breathe as someone tore at the back of his hoodie. "What's the meaning of this?! Let me go, let me go! H-", Miguel protested instinctively, but a strong hand clamped tightly around his mouth, reducing every sound to a muffled whimper. The boy's heart sank like a stone and he lost all energy for a moment. He was being kidnapped! His attacker put him in a lock-hold and slowly forced him to the floor. The little Rivera tried to wiggle out of the grip or kick out, do something, but the weight on him was too big. Miguel let out a strained sob, his eyes were rolling around like crazy in their sockets. He was terrified. "So, mocoso, and now sweet dreams!", his kidnapper chuckled menacingly. _Mamá! Papá! HELP!_ Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a big stone being lifted, aiming for his head. _No, por Dios, no!_ PANG! Pain exploded, then his trembling body stilled as his world was plunged into darkness.

Meanwhile in the colourful Land of the Dead, things were happier for the deceased Rivera family than they had been in a long time. A very, very long time. Especially for Héctor Rivera. A hundred years of being shunned, made fun of and being close to dying for good were finally being rewarded. He had gotten to know his great-great-grandson – such a bright, talented, wonderful muchacho! -, the love of his life had forgiven him at last and most importantly, he was finally reunited with his beloved daughter. His – now not so little – Coco.

Héctor was lying with Imelda on their twin bed, his hands resting on her hips, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Imelda ran her bony fingers through his raven hair. Coco's father sighed happily. How much he had missed their touches and expressions of love! He in turn reached up to massage a spot above Imelda's left ear. She shuddered with joy. " _Cariño_ , I... I'm so sorry I ever doubted you. I...", she started to apologize. Her husband didn't let her finish, but cut her off with a deep, passionate kiss on the lips. „No, my _corazón_. Nothing is your fault. I should have never trusted Ernesto in the first place. But let's not talk about it anymore, shall we? Let's focus only on...", he whispered consolingly.

All of a sudden, an overwhelming sense of dread hit him like a tidal wave. It felt as if a truck had hit him square in the chest. Héctor broke away from Imelda and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He was taking deep shaky breaths, his brown eyes wide, staring into space. The female skeleton worriedly put a hand on his shoulder, exclaiming: „Ay, mi amor! What happened?!" Before he could answer, they heard a low growl coming from outside. „Pepita...", Imelda whispered and the couple ran out to see what was going on. They were greeted with a sight that did nothing to calm down Héctor's sudden nerves.

The two alebrijes in the family were at the edge of their lawn, their bodies facing in the direction of the marigold bridge in the distance. Pepita had tensed all her muscles, her wings slightly flapping up and down as if she were getting ready to take flight. Her teeth were bared, her feline eyes small and glowing with aggression. Dante – their great-great-grandson's trusty, enthusiastic xolo – was whimpering, his bright multi-coloured skin turning into a darker shade than normal, his big eyes showed concern, but also anger.

Between them stood Coco, trembling. Suddenly, her cane fell to the floor and she would have fallen as well, had Héctor and Imelda not rushed to her side to catch her. „What in the name of Quetzalcoatl and all the gods is going on here?!", the Rivera matriarch called out to no one in particular, fear evident in her voice. Héctor winced internally. Speaking out the name of their creator had a very powerful effect and it was never to be used lightly. Then Coco muttered a single word that made his non-existent blood run cold: „Miguel."

The air in Mexico City felt cool and humid, which could only mean a thunderstorm was on its way. Nothing out of the ordinary on a day in September. A figure – judging from its silhouette, it was female – dragged a last time on a cigarette before she reached the bottom. She put the glimmering butt out on the wet grass beside her, then slowly let the smoke escape through her mouth and nostrils. With a thoughtful look, she watched how it slowly mixed with the grey clouds above her. The woman pulled the hood of her black jacket deeper into her face and opened a liquor bottle. After taking a long swig of tequila, she leaned her body against the headstone of the grave she was sitting on.

She traced the letters of the name engraved on the stone. A few minutes of silence passed before she lightly began to tap on the tombstone and started to talk to nobody in particular: "You won't believe me, I had the strangest dream tonight… It was more like flashes to be honest. There was a bird's eye view of the Mexican State Prison, a red van… I heard music and bangs and weeping. The most horrible parts were the feels though. There was this dark, evil presence, it was horrible. And- " Her voice began to shake and she quickly downed a bit more of liquor to make it go away. "And this fear. So much fear, despair and loneliness! Don't ask me how, but I have a feeling that something nasty is about to happen."

The visitor then huffed and stood up with a small smile. "Anyways, I've just come to tell you. I've got to go now. See you next time…" She kissed her fingertips and touched the gravestone with them, a last sentimental goodbye. After putting the bottle into her bag and taking out her car keys, she strolled towards the entrance of the cemetery. Laughing, the woman flung the keys into the air, spun about herself and caught them a second before they hit the ground. She climbed into her car – a red pickup truck – and turned the engine on, murmuring one more time "There's definitely something about to happen…" before she turned the vehicle around and drove away. Outside, thunder rumbled ominously in the distance.

END CHAPTER 1

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 **So, mates. This is going to wrap up Chapter 1 of The Darkness and the Past. Don't worry, I feel horrible of making Miguel go through this, but at the same time, you must know by now that fanfiction writers love to be as cruel as possible… Let me know if you liked it in the comments. Stay safe and don't take short-cuts, guys. Always loving you,**

 **Yuna**


	2. Chapter 2

The Darkness and the Past

AN: Wow, guys! I'm blown away! I never predicted that this story would take off like this! I'm really happy that you like the first chapter so much. Doing something different seems to have been a good idea. Thanks for all the appreciation and the follows, I feel like I'm not saying this often enough.

So... we already know that some horrible person has dared to put his hands on our dear Miguelito, which I feel horrible about (and kind of not...) and that is not something the Riveras are not going to stand for! We will learn a little more about this mystery man and how Miguel's family reacts to the disappearance of their boy. Starting from Chapter 3, the woman from the graveyard will step into the spotlight too.

I want to thank you all for your support and patience you always have while waiting for my stories. But now, no waiting required anymore! Let's go sleuthing with the Riveras! Onwards to Chapter 2, my fellas!

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The red van was parked close to one of the walls surrounding the park, in a way that it was mostly covered by the stringy leaves and twigs of a willow growing over it. With the added darkness of the night, if someone would have decided to take a walk, coming across this place, he would not have noticed anything out of the ordinary. But how naive they would be...

A man was casually leaning against the wall, his muscular arms crossed over his chest. He wore a black vest over an orange shirt, jeans and tennis shoes. His black hair was cropped short. The sun had further tanned his brown face which might have been called handsome, had it not been for the icy look in his eyes and the aggressive scowl tugging at his chapped lips. A bruise was starting to heal around his left eye. It was obvious that he had gotten into a fight not long ago, but his general appearance told everyone that he had not been on the losing side of it. The man pushed up his sleeve on his right arm, revealing an impressive tattoo of a three-headed snake coiling around his forearm.

He sighed and muttered something unintelligible under his breath, letting his eyes wander up and down the street. A few minutes later, another man emerged from the shadows and silently stood beside him. The two gave each other a curt nod. Then the newcomer leaned forward and said: "You better have a good reason to make me do all of this..." The first man chuckled darkly and looked the other guy over. He was a little smaller than him and thin, but didn't look unhealthy. His tanned skin was as smooth as a mirror, his shoulder-long black hair carefully parted in the middle. Dark eyes looked back at him calmly. He wore a business suit, which suggested an important rank. The snouts of three snakes were barely visible over his closed sleeves.

"Your debts with the State Prison have been taken care of. I'd suggest you stay off their radar for a time though. Do you have the... package?", the businessman quietly asked. "Don't worry, _hermano_. They'll leave us alone. And yes, I got him. Catching this _mocoso_ was easier than shooting a stray cat.", his companion answered. His Spanish accent was slightly noticeable when he spoke. "Hmm... I've told the company that I would take a one-week absence. Is that enough for you to... well, get done with him?", his brother informed him. His accent was barely noticeable. "Of course, Joaco... Although I would rather have more time. I will make him pay for everything he has done to our name... I will avenge the injustice he caused to great-great-grandfather. Now where is Manny? He should be here already! We have a timeline to meet... ", the criminal hissed and rubbed his muscular arms to get warm. "How am I supposed to know? At least he knows where to meet us...", Joaquín grumbled.

Just when Joaquín was about to take his phone out of his pocket, a figure appeared at the end of the road. It waved at them and broke into a jog to join them. Seconds later, a young man was standing before them. He gave the brothers a nod and greeted them: "Hey, guys! Ramón, Joaco... Sorry that I let you wait. I still had to close the shop after helping a couple choose their wedding rings. That took forever..." Emmanuel or Manny was the youngest of the brothers. He was also clothed in a simple black two-piece suit, like his older brother, but which didn't look as expensive as Joaquín's. Just like his elders, he sported a three-headed snake tattoo. His dark brown hair was carefully combed and styled up with a little gel. Out of the three, his brown eyes held the most warmth. "Remind me why are we here again, please...", Manny asked. He had heard the rough outlines of his brother's plan over the phone, but he wasn't sure to have heard right...

Ramón, the oldest brother, flashed a psychotic grin and opened one of the back doors of the van. The sight took his younger siblings by surprise. Joaquín gave a quiet whistle, his eyes widening, Emmanuel gasped involuntarily and took a step back. Amidst empty soda and beer cans and black trash bags laid... Miguel. He was unconscious. His hands were tied securely on his back, his ankles were restrained as well to prevent him from fleeing. A gag was bound tightly over his mouth and firmly fixed at the back of his head. A thin dried trickle of blood ran from his hairline down his temple. "You really did it...", Joaquín muttered, unable to hide his astonishment. Manny sighed and quietly voiced his concerns: "So we are really going through with this? You really mean it. I know, we've always done some odd jobs to get by, but a kidnapping? This is more..."

For a moment it looked as if Ramón was close to grabbing his baby brother by the throat, but he left it at shooting him an indignant glare that you could almost see sparks coming out of his eyes. "Yes, Emmanuel, I really mean it! I want revenge! I want him to pay for what he has done! I will clean our name and if it's the last thing I do! Aren't you ashamed of what we've become?", he hissed. Seeing that their youngest didn't reply, he bent down and scratched Miguel on the cheek. The unconscious boy didn't even flinch. "He's totally out of it. I don't think he'll wake up before we arrive.", Ramón muttered smugly. With a last triumphant look at his little prisoner, he slammed the back doors of the van shut. "Now get into the van! We have a timeline to uphold and I want to get out of this forsaken city!", the goon growled at his companions, who instantly obliged. A minute later, the vehicle quietly roared to life and soon the night was hiding the brothers and their nefarious plans.

"MIGUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEL!", Tío Berto screamed into the night. "Where are you, _mijo_?! Miguel, please answer!", Enrique's cry followed, voice hoarse from yelling. Miguel's mother, Luisa, was leaning against a well, her legs too weak to support her weight any longer. She was starting to tremble, murmuring faintly: "Why are you doing this to me, Miguel?" The beautiful woman thought back to the dreadful night a year ago on Día de los Muertos. Her boy had disappeared after Mamá Elena had destroyed Miguel's guitar, they hadn't found him until the next day. But she, her husband and her brother-in-law had searched the whole town already and they had come up with nothing. Even the local gendarmes were unable to locate her son. They had been forced to abandon the search and left the Riveras alone, sincere regret on their faces. Miguel was nowhere to be seen... Her two companions approached her, their expressions bitter and tired.

"Let's head home, _mi amor_... We won't find him today. It's night and starting to get cold. Wherever he is, he'll find a shelter from the elements. Let's search again tomorrow. Come on, Luisa...", Enrique sighed and helped his wife to her feet. Slowly and crestfallen, the three made their way back to the Rivera home. Elena was waiting for them at the entrance, her face dark with worry. "And?", she asked. This simple, monosyllabic question gave the resolves of the young mother the final blow and was enough to bring her down. With a devastated cry, Luisa threw herself into the matriarch's arms and started to sob as if she had just learned that her Miguel had died. Elena sighed deeply and quickly guided her to the dinner table, gently sitting her down on a chair. Miguel's mother slumped down on it and buried her face in her arms. "Don't worry, _cariño_. He has to be somewhere. He wouldn't abandon us just like this. For the love of our ancestors, he came back the last time, too! Nobody could find him, but he came back... He just has to...", the boy's grandmother muttered.

But even that hopeful statement didn't help to lift the young mother's spirits. Enrique approached her, a crushed look on his face. "I'm sure he's ok, _mi_ Luisa.", he whispered and approached her. Overcome with grief, Luisa launched herself into her husband's arms and buried her face in his chest, weeping loudly. Gloria and Carmen, her sisters-in-law, had wisely put all of the little children to bed when the three had gone to search for their missing family member, so it was safe to break down. "Where's my _bebé_?! I want him back, Kike! I want to hold him, I want my baby back!", Miguel's mother sobbed heavily, shaking on her whole body with grief and dread. Enrique held his wife tightly against him, fighting against his own tears. Her sister-in-law Gloria approached them and touched her shoulder. "Don't fret, Luisa. We will find him, no matter the cost. Have faith, _cariño_..."

Meanwhile, cousin Abel looked over to the sofa his sister Rosa sat on. The girl hadn't spoken a word since her younger family member had disappeared. She had taken off her ballerinas and pulled her knees close to her chest. She was trembling. "Are you ok, Rosita?", her older brother asked, concerned. Rosa started sobbing, shortly overcome by fear and her aunt's intense despair. But then something changed in her. Sadness and hopelessness turned into determination and anger. The bespectacled girl wiped the tears from her eyes and stood up. "Enough!", she cried out through gritted teeth, "We can't just sit around and cry and not do anything! Our gendarmes were helpless, right? Well, how about a real squad of investigators from Mexico City, with dogs and all? If there's someone who can find Miguel, then its people who are actually specialized in finding missing persons."

For a moment, everyone in the room was dead silent, so much so that Rosa almost regretted having spoken. Then, to the surprise of everyone in the room, Mamá Elena recovered speech first and said: "Rosita, _querida_ , I never thought I would say that, but..." Her granddaughter pulled her head between her shoulders, waiting to hear that this was the worst idea ever and that she should leave the planning to the adults. But she heard instead: "I don't have any better ideas. We have enough money for four bus tickets. I suggest... that Luisa and Enrique go by all means, I would like to travel, too. As the matriarch of the family, I'm probably needed for the processes. And I'd like for Rosa to come with us as well... She not only had this idea, but she is also the most well-versed with modern culture out of all of us. That will be of use in the big city. We will take care of her of course, but the rest of you needs to stay here. Someone needs to keep the shop running while we're away. Riveras always keep going..."

Mamá Elena huffed and poured herself a shot glass of tequila. She had never talked so much in one go. After the initial shock to her reaction had passed, her son Berto approached her and muttered: "Whatever you decide, _madre_ , we support you.", while his wife gave Rosa a tight hug and kissed her head, tearfully. "Alright. I'll go and buy the tickets then. I suggest we go to bed early, I guess the bus will leave in the morning hours.", Miguel's father sighed, gently liberating himself from Luisa's grip and rubbing at his temples to chase away an oncoming headache. Elena gave him the money, then Enrique stumbled once again into the night. The matriarch looked at the rest of the family, looking gaunt and shaken with worry and instructed: "You heard him. Head to bed and get as much sleep as possible. Tomorrow will be a hard day for all of us. May the ancestors grant us good dreams. I will stay here until Enrique comes back. _Buenas noches..._ "

Muttering good nights, one by one the Riveras trudged into their rooms and soon the house was cast in darkness. Miguel's grandmother gulped. Even though she tried to look strong and decisive in front of her family, she was worried sick for her grandchild. Guilt resurfaced in her when she thought back to a year ago, when he had run away crying because of her. But somehow she knew deep inside her that this time it was different. Something worse had happened to their Miguelito. Way worse... Elena crossed herself and entered the ofrenda room.

The old lady took in the scenery. The altar was still there, filling the majority of the room. Although there were no flowers or food decorating the tables this time, after she had lit them, dozens of candles enveloped the ofrenda with a warm orange glow. Propped up on colourful cloth, the pictures of the deceased Riveras looked at Elena unmovingly. Her hand gently reached up to touch the photograph of her mother. The death of Mamá Coco, albeit predictable, had pained the family greatly. For a brief moment, the dark thought crossed her mind if they had to put Miguel's picture on the ofrenda soon, too…

Horrified at her own thoughts, Coco's daughter closed her eyes tightly and forced herself to think positively. Miguel was not dead nor close to dying. True, he was in trouble, but she had good faith that everything would turn out well in the end. At least she hoped so... After grounding herself, Mamá Elena opened her eyes again and did what she had come here for. She kneeled down, crossed herself and looking up into her ancestor Imelda's face, she prayed: "I implore you, ancestors. Help us find and bring Miguel back home safe and sound. He is missing and unfindable. I fear something bad has happened... Please, assist and protect us in our quest. Hear my pleas." With that she stood back up, dried her tear-stained face and blew out the candles, before retreating back into the living room.

With the help of Pepita, the dead Riveras were at the Department of Family Reunions at lightning speed. The sight alone of Imelda with a worried glare in her eyes was enough for the managers to recognize that her problem was serious and immediately dispatched them to one of the clerks. It was the same one that had helped them when Miguel had paid them his unexpected visit. Imelda bent anxiously over the desk and asked: "Could you be so kind to explain what in the world is going on with our family? We've all been feeling negative vibrations and our _alebrijes_ are more nervous than I have ever seen. Is everything in order on the other side? Is our great-great-grandson ok?" The small skeleton looked at various papers for a few minutes, then looked back at the Riveras and started explaining: "Well, _señora,_ as far as I can see..."

Suddenly Imelda's hands flew to her head and she collapsed on the floor. At the same time, Dante gave an earsplitting howl outside. Immediately Héctor and Coco rushed to the fallen matriarch's side. " _Mi amor_ , what is it?! Talk to us!", Imelda's husband asked, the terror he had felt earlier running through his bones with renewed vigor. Imelda heard Mamá Elena's prayer in her head like a giant bell being rung. Then she came to herself again. "Miguel... He's missing! They can't find him anywhere in Santa Cecilia. They need our help!", she stuttered, breathing heavily. "If the boy can't be found, this usually employs the usage of a specific term: kidnapping.", the clerk reluctantly clarified. Rosita let out a little scream, Oscar, Julio and Felipe gasped, even Victoria, usually so stoic, was shocked. Coco started to sob quietly. Héctor doubled over and hugged himself tightly, eyes shut and shoulders shaking. His sweet great-great-grandson?! Who would dare to even touch a hair on his head? Why was fate always so cruel to their family?!

He felt like crying. Miguel kidnapped? He was scared and disturbed. What would they do to his boy? But his wife pulled herself up and cried out passionately: "We have to help them! We have to cross over now!" The clerk gave a deep sigh and lamented: "I'm sorry for this unfortunate event, I truly am, but there is no way for you to cross. The Flower Bridge activates on the Day of the Dead and on that day only. It's powerful ancient magic, it can't be overridden, it's been like this since our world exists. My deepest condolences, but you can't travel to the Land of the Living. There is nothing I can do for you..." Imelda retreated, a hand over her mouth, her expression was crushed. "Well, if there's nothing we can do...", said Oscar, taking off his hat. "... we will trouble you no longer. Apologies for taking up your time. _Vamos, chicos_...", Felipe completed his brother's sentence. "My apologies for not being able to help you.", the clerk muttered, sincerely regretful.

Crestfallen, the family stepped outside again. "I can't believe we can't help Miguel, after all he has done for us... ", Julio said, incredulous. "Me neither, but what can we do about it? We can't just summon the bridge by ourselves, can we?", Tía Victoria replied, a bit harsher than intended, but her voice was quietly shaking with despair. Suddenly, Rosita of all people seemed to have an idea. Her brown eyes widened like plates and she stammered: "Wait a minute, I might know what we can do..." Too dazed to really react, the family watched as Miguel's great-aunt turned on her heels and ran back to the clerk's office. Pepita and Dante joined them. The colourful jaguar snuggled up close to the Riveras, trying to give them warmth and hope where apparently there was none.

Miguel's trusty xolo dog curled up into a ball between Héctor's legs and winced loudly, his colours more subdued and darker than ever. His big eyes were shiny and rolling in their sockets. Minutes passed by in silence, when all of a sudden, Rosita burst out of the building, an archive in her skeletal hands. "I think...", she announced, "I found someone who could help us get to the Land of the Living..."

END OF CHAPTER 2

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 **Well, my darlings, this is going to wrap up Chapter 2 of Darkness and the Past!**

 **Leave me a comment, as tiny as it may be, to give me green light and reassure me that such stories are worth continuing. (Maybe a hashtag #I'veReadThis?)**

 **I've been thrown through a loop of stress and emotions these past few weeks and I haven't been enjoying it one bit, but brighter times are ahead.**

 **Stay safe and loved, reader fam!**

 **Your Yuna**


	3. Chapter 3

The Darkness and the Past (Chapter 3):

AN: Hello, my followers and fellow fanfictioners! At last, after the longest time struggling with the ever-growing expectations of my third semester of university, I have used the free days while being confined to the four walls of our house during the civil unrests (dare I say revolution?) in my country to finally complete this STUBBORN third chapter, but oh man, was it fun to write!

And now to the specialties and warnings of this chapter and beyond… In this installment, as well as the next one, we'll have a new character making an entrance: the graveyard woman, who had the suspicion that something might happen. Now, she may be on the side of the good, but I'd like to remind everyone that my main inspirations from her come from pretty adult sources. (Providing those if anyone wishes to know exactly.) I will not go into full details about everything she does, but I will make her as rough as I deem necessary. That chick is no Disney princess. She's a toughened adult who has seen much of the world, compared to my usual teenager OCs. Plus, Ramón is _very_ pissed off at Miguel and has no intention of making our poor boy feel comfortable…

Ok, that was it with the warnings. Grab your drinks, flashlights and bus tickets and join the adventure… in Chapter 3.

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 _Darkness._

He couldn't see a thing… Was it night? Was it day? Where on Earth was he? He couldn't tell. Everything around him was just impenetrable darkness. He shivered from fear and cold. Had he gone blind? Did something or some _one_ else _make_ him go blind? After a second of shock, he could calm down enough to assure himself that if someone had indeed blinded him, he would be in a lot more pain.

 _Loneliness_.

He strained his ears and listened into the dark space. Water was dripping somewhere distant and wind that felt cold on his skin was howling around hollow structures. Wherever he was, he definitely was not at home anymore. And he was alone… Save for the wind and the water, he couldn't hear any footsteps, breathing or a heartbeat except for his own heart that was galloping like a wild horse in his chest.

 _Helplessness._

It was only when he tried to call out for somebody that Miguel realized the full extent of the situation he found himself in. His scream was drowned out, coming out only as a feeble whimper. A thick piece of cloth in his mouth pressed uncomfortably against his tongue and he could feel the little hairs on his head that were tangled in the knot of the gag. His heart stood still for a moment before resuming to beat twice as fast.

 _Panic. Pain. Terror…_

Overwhelmed with despair, he tried to move to free himself, but try as he might, he couldn't fight against the rope that bound his body tightly to a chair. Miguel intended to spit out the gag, but it was too tight and almost triggered his retching reflex. Beads of sweat were running down his forehead, which made the wound from the stone attack sting. The ropes were chafing against his wrists and ankles. Pain and utter terror made hot tears stream down Miguel's face, wetting the blindfold over his eyes.

Miguel was sobbing silently, screaming for his parents in his mind and for his dead family even. He couldn't believe it. Just because of some stupid shortcut he was now in the hands of a kidnapper in a place that could be God-knew-where! Thinking of his family felt like a knife being twisted in his heart. That didn't help at all. Instead of feeling better, he ended up feeling even more miserable as the homesickness started to kick in. The boy cried harder, shaking violently. Then he heard a door being opened.

The young musician froze. His head whipped up and he cried out, hopeful. Ramón had to pull himself together to not let out a laugh. Seeing his victim so helpless gave him a joy that he usually felt either only after a successful coup or a… well, particularly good night. The brothers approached Miguel. Then the eldest grabbed the gag and pulled it out of Miguel's mouth.

"So, you're awake, _mocoso_ …", Ramón chuckled darkly. He gently reached down to run a hand through the boy's hair and he felt him tense up. "Did you really think you could get away with this?", Joaquín scoffed. "What are you talking about?! Let me go home!", Miguel pleaded. "Oh, you'll have to wait, muchacho.", Emmanuel sighed from the background. "Who are you?! I want to go home! _Por favor_ , let me – AH!" Ramón had slapped him hard across the face, a burning fire spreading on his cheek. The goon grabbed the crying boy by his collar and hissed with a voice dripping with venom and trembling with hate: "You little rat have singlehandedly ruined our family's name! I will NOT let you get away with it! I swear this on my blood and the name of… De la Cruz."

He felt Miguel freeze under his grasp and the cries dying out. The boy seemed to be in shock. Ramón grinned wickedly. The brat was in the right position to begin. But for now… He hit him across the head and let him go. "You will pay…", the man growled, while putting the gag back into Miguel's mouth. "Enjoy this miserable night, thinking about everything you have done.", Joaquín gave him a sneer. "Let's go, we have work to do…", Manny called out from the door.

Miguel heard metal clank against metal as the door was shut. Shock was running through his entire body as if someone had injected him with a sleeping drug. He mumbled over and over in his head how this was impossible while his heart appeared to have left his body. They had kidnapped and were planning to do God-knows-what with him – just because he had tried to reunite Héctor with his family… The sole idea of torture, the pain and inevitably the blood was enough to give him the final blow. He sent out a last devastating suffocated scream before feeling the darkness invading the corners of his mind. Finally, his head sank down to his chest as the panic and physical pain overwhelmed him, causing him to finally faint.

XoX

The Riveras were already awake when the first light of dawn fell over Santa Cecilia. Rosa had put on longer pants and traded her ballerinas for sneakers. A pink hoodie protected her from the cold morning air. She had been the first of the family to wake up and had made a small breakfast for the others. Miguel's cousin had started to draw in the notebook she had bought herself to keep her mind off of horrible thoughts while she waited for the rest of her family to wake up and come downstairs. Now the book was stowed away in a small backpack resting between her knees as the Rivera family were waiting at the bus stop to take them to Mexico City.

The girl looked up when she heard quiet voices reaching her ears. Her _tía_ Luisa was sitting beside her, clothed in her usual dress, but wearing firmer shoes as well. Her husband was gently cupping her face with his hand, caressing her cheek. He was wearing his everyday clothes, except that he had put on a jacket against the cold like her. Mamá Elena sat next to him, clutching at her purse. The matriarch wore worker boots, shorts and a wide t-shirt. Together with her hat on her back she looked like an old explorer, which almost made Rosa laugh, despite the severity of their situation. Both Luisa and Elena wore large shawls draped across their shoulders.

The rest of their family surrounded them. When the receptionist announced that the bus would arrive in five minutes, they formed a circle and held hands tightly. "I don't know what will await us in Mexico City, but with a bit of luck we will come back with someone who will find Miguel soon…", Mamá Elena spoke up, her tone grave. "We shall pray for it, every night…", Rosa's mother sighed. "Alright, _familia,_ let's go. The bus will arrive in just a few minutes.", Enrique told them by looking at his watch. "Then I guess this is goodbye. Best of luck.", Berto mumbled and initiated a row of hugs from the rest of the family that would stay behind. Two minutes later, Elena, Rosa, Luisa and Enrique watched as the doors of the bus opened that would bring them to Mexico City. With a last sigh, they boarded the bus and claimed their seats.

Miguel's parents took double seats for themselves while Rosa sat with her grandmother. Their faces were pale and anxious as they waited for the rest of the passengers to come aboard. In fact, it seemed that their trepidation was so obvious that a kind lady on the other side of the aisle asked them if they felt alright. The Riveras simply nodded and forced smiles and some colour back into their cheeks. Then the doors finally shut and the driver announced that the trip would take about two hours. Luisa whimpered. Two more hours that she spent without her baby boy… Her husband gently pressed her shoulder and Elena and Rosa weasled their arms to the front seats to caress her hair. "Don't worry, _tía_. We will arrive soon enough.", Rosa tried to console her. Even if she wanted to lay down and cry herself, she felt that she had to be strong for her family. After what felt like hours, the bus roared to life and passed the town line en route to Mexico City.

During the bus ride, the mourning family kept quiet, ignoring the chattering of the other passengers. It was obvious that neither of them had slept much last night. Their words came out in whispers and all of them struggled to keep their eyes open. An hour into the journey, Luisa leaned her head against her husband's shoulder and fell into a light slumber, her lashes wet with teardrops. He hugged her tightly against his chest and soon joined his wife in a tormented land of dreams. Elena was finishing a prayer when she noticed her niece drawing in a notebook. The girl had taken off her shoes and pressed her knees to her abdomen as a drawing board.

It was the picture of a guitar and a violin surrounded by a spiral of musical notes. "It symbolizes me and Miguel and the bond that we forged through music. I love playing the violin, but I've also been into arts lately, mostly sketches. It doesn't mean anything though, it's just a phase, just a mindless doodle. I don't…", Rosa tried to defend her drawing, but trailed off when she found that the matriarch was smiling fondly at her. "You don't need to justify anything, _querida_. Your art is lovely. I'm proud that Miguelito inspired you so much. He would… he's surely proud of you too.", Elena was quick to calm her down.

Rosa put her notebook into her backpack and leaned against her grandmother. "I miss him already, _abuelita_ … I feel like there's so much I haven't told him yet. I want him back…", she muttered, her voice going sharp at the end because of an awful lump growing in her throat. And there they came, the tears. Those wretched, forsaken tears that kept appearing when they were least needed. The girl felt them running down her cheeks. A small sob escaped her and another and another, making her shoulders shake and her chest hurt. She bit down on her knuckles to prevent them from coming, so that her crying would not wake up her aunt and uncle. Fighting her hardest to suppress her sadness, Rosa wormed her head through her grandmother's arm and tried to focus on her rough skin, her smell and everything that would keep her anchored to reality. Slowly, Rosa felt herself get sleepy as well and even though she hated the vulnerable state of mind she would be in, she relented and finally drifted off.

"Arrival in Mexico City in two minutes!" That call ripped the four Riveras from their sleep simultaneously. "Have faith, Miguel. _Mamá_ will find you…", Luisa murmured happily when she heard. Two minutes passed soon enough and the big city finally came into view. The metropolis took their breath away. It almost seemed like a city for giants compared to their little town. The bus came to a halt at the terminal and the family descended. For a few moments nobody moved, overwhelmed by the dark cloud of fate weighing down on them. The reunion of their family would be decided here and now… Then Mamá Elena picked up her backpack, put on her hat and started marching towards the entrance of the bus stop. "Let's show them what real Riveras are made of!", she announced, hope and determination making her voice soar.

A friendly corner shop vendor told Rosa where the police station was while she went in there to purchase gum and water. He regretted not having a map to give them, but the girl just took out her notebook and scribbled down the instructions. Afterwards, she told her family what she had found out. "That is quite far away from here…", Enrique said with a sideways look at his mother. "But God knows how much we will have to give the police to help us. I'm afraid we don't have the money for taxis, the investigation AND our ride back home.", she replied, her face scrunched up with worry. "Then we walk!", Luisa exclaimed, "I would walk 100 miles through a burning desert just to get my _bebé_ back! We need to go!" The rest of the Riveras looked at her tenderly. It was awe inspiring how determined a mother could be just to protect her children. "Then let us waste no time. I doubt it will be a walk in the park…", Enrique said, giving his wife a tight hug. Arming themselves with courage, the family stepped out right onto the buzzing Mexico City streets.

As Miguel's father had already predicted, it was indeed not easy to reach the police station. They had to stop sometimes and ask for directions and one time they had taken a wrong alley, which made them lose precious minutes before finding the right street again. It also wasn't easy for Mamá Elena to walk that far. Rosa could note the exhaustion in her sweaty face and her deep breaths, but the old lady just clenched her teeth and walked on without complaint, determined to do anything for her missing grandchild. But finally, they saw the grey building in the distance that the vendor had described. The black metal letters on the wall blinked in the sun and beckoned them like a lighthouse. All tiredness and frustration forgotten, the family seemed to suddenly develop superpowers. Miguel's parents started running toward the building like star athletes, Rosa and Elena close on their heels.

A stern looking guard opened the door for them when they came to a halt in front of the precinct. Upon entering, they were hit by a blast of cool air coming from two big fans on either side of the lobby. A row of seats lined the wall for visitors to sit down, but adrenaline kept them on their feet. There were four closed booths with two cops each that received the people. Seeing one of them getting unoccupied, Enrique quickly moved towards it, ushering his companions in front of him and avoiding other cops coming in and out of the entrance with paperwork or sometimes prisoners in tow as best as he could. "Good day, gentlemen.", he greeted the policemen after shutting the milky glass door. A bad feeling cramped up Rosa's stomach when she saw them. Their jackets were lazily draped over the back of their seats and they had opened the first buttons of their shirts because of the heat. One of them had a bag of churros in hand while the other fanned himself with his hat, both snickering quietly. They looked up and stopped laughing when they heard Enrique's voice.

"Hello, _compadre_! What can we do for you?", the older one grinned. "I want to ask for a search troop. Or a rescue team. My son has…", the shoe-maker explained, but was cruelly interrupted by a bout of laughter. The two cops had started chuckling again and their hearts sank like stones. "A search troop? A rescue team? Something else, _compadre_?", the hat cop replied. Something inside the Riveras' eyes broke like crystal. Rosa felt as if she had received a blow to the stomach and she struggled hard to not start crying. Luisa stumbled forward, her arms shaking and her eyes zoning out as if she were about to faint. Her voice sounded hollow and breathless when she whispered: "My son… He's missing… He's a beautiful 12-year old boy… You need to help us… My son… We need to find him…"

"Ok. Listen, _señora_ , we legally have to wait 48 hours before someone can officially be declared missing and the police gets involved in the case. The kid's 12. Mexico City is big. 12-year olds are not the smartest, they run away, they take wrong turns, but they usually turn up after less than 48 hours by themselves.", his colleague replied, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "Listen up, we haven't come all the way from Santa Cecilia just to be treated like this, you…", Mamá Elena hissed, fury and disappointment colouring her face, but she got cut off by the officer who had just choked on his churro. "Santa Cecilia?!", he exclaimed, incredulous, "We don't even have that town under our jurisdiction! Why do you come complaining to us? Do we even look like detectives to you? Look, Mexico City has enough missing people as it is, we can't afford to dispatch valuable officers to some forsaken town in the middle of _nada_! Sorry, the law is hard, but it is the law…"

It was difficult to say what the clan would do next. There were Rosa and Enrique with a greenish look on their faces, Luisa looking as if Death herself had kissed her and their matriarch, who was as red as a lobster. The churro cop seemed to be getting ready to tell them to leave, but his partner tapped him on the shoulder and whispered something in his ear. The other police man raised his eye brows and both started to snicker. "Hey! Ok, _campesinos_ … Perhaps someone IS able to help you out. _La muerta loca_ … um, I mean officer Carmen Martinsen. She works solo, so maybe she got some time to spare for you.", Hat addressed the Riveras, snapping his fingers to break their trance. "What? There is someone who could help us? What's the name again?", Enrique stammered. "Carmen Martinsen. We apologize for not being able to help directly, but that chick's your best shot.", Churro said, his tone completely changed.

"Thank you! Thank you so much, officers. Now my baby is finally safe!", Luisa sobbed, tears of joy washing away the past five minutes in Hell, jumping and grasping at the slightest bit of hope that presented itself. Rosa, who was a little more alert, narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the men and asked: "Why are you helping us now? A few minutes before, you didn't want to have anything to do with us." "Sorry, _peque_. It was out of line to speak like this. As an apology, let us offer you Carmen.", they explained, fake sweetness dripping from them like honey into a fly trap. "And where does she even live, this Carmen?", Elena chimed in. "She left the official force a few years ago, so nobody knows exactly. But patrols swear to have seen her in the streets of the Barrio Bajo. Here's her picture. Aside from that, we can't help you. Best of luck.", the officer, who had finally put his hat where it belonged, explained vaguely and Rosa took the photo that he offered. A beautiful young woman with green eyes and tanned skin smiled brightly at them. Her long curly hair was kept in a neat braid and she posed proudly in her dark blue uniform.

"We will find her. Thank you for your time.", Elena said coolly and gave the cops a curt nod. When they exited the booth, the family heard them laughing again. Rosa had to ball her fist to contain the curse words bubbling in her chest and hasted out of the precinct. She couldn't stand the suffocating building any longer. Once they were out, they gathered on a flight of stairs to breath the fresh air and discuss their next move. "We have to get to the Barrio Bajo as soon as possible!", Luisa exclaimed nervously, "Who knows how long it will take to find this woman?" "Easy, my love. Let's not haste into this…", her husband warned her, "What if the Barrio Bajo is far away from here? Mamá can't walk that far and with the heat coming on, stumbling around cluelessly won't do us any good." They were about to fall into despair and lethargy when a black taxi honked at them, pulling them out of their thoughts.

"Are you ok there? Can I help you with anything?", the driver asked, giving the family a concerned look. "Perhaps you can. Could you tell us how far the Barrio Bajo is from here? On foot?", Mamá Elena replied. The young man laughed incredulously: "Ay, _mamita_! On foot? Roughly two, two and a half hours! Definitely would not recommend it at this hour. Are you sightseeing?" Before Luisa could intervene, Rosa nodded her head enthusiastically. "How much do you charge?", the girl inquired, eyeing him warily. "Let me see…", mumbled the taxi driver, "From here to Barrio Bajo… around 45 minutes… that makes 137.00 MXN." Miguel's father went pale and they formed a quick circle. "137! That's more than half of what we have! If Carmen is willing to take our case, I'm sure we'll have to pay her too and who knows how we'll pay for our ride back home?!", he whispered, voice shaking. Luisa was trembling, silent tears were running across her cheeks. They could tell that the situation was slowly dragging her to the edge of hysteria. It broke Rosa's heart to see her aunt like that. "I believe, _tía_ Luisa. I believe that we will have all what's necessary to find Miguel. Sometimes you just have to take a leap of faith into the darkness, but I can _feel_ it… I say we take this taxi.", she said in a firm voice, suddenly invaded by a wave of confidence. "If you believe it so much, _querida_ … I say we take this taxi too.", Mamá Elena finished the argument.

They turned around again and nodded at the man, who had waited patiently for their conversation to end. "What are you waiting for? Get in.", he smiled widely at them. After all of them had entered the vehicle, the women in the back and Enrique in the passenger seat, the taxi was soon driving steadily along the main street. "What are you most interested in visiting in the Barrio Bajo? Really the district you want to go to is called Cuautepec de Madero, which is divided into Barrio Bajo and Barrio Alto. If you want to sightsee, I would actually recommend the Barrio Alto. There are churches and gardens and the home of Juventino Rosas.", their driver told them. "Actually… we are looking for a friend to go sightseeing with first. Rosa, pass me the picture, please. If, by some kind of miracle, you have seen her before, she's supposed to live in the Barrio Bajo… Her name is Carmen Martinsen.", Enrique explained hesitantly. The man stopped at a red light and used the time to look at the photo that Miguel's father was holding in his hand. His eyes went wide and he gasped. "If I know her? Of course I do! She sometimes sells her paintings at the plaza there, I've purchased her art thrice already, because my wife loves them. Why would you want to go sightsee with her?", he exclaimed.

To say that the Riveras were shocked was an understatement. They collectively looked as if a _luchador_ had knocked the wind out of them and they had forgotten to breathe. Elena looked as if she were about to faint, Rosa was clutching her chest and Luisa's face colour changed from white to green repeatedly in a matter of seconds. Could this be true? Was this no treacherous trap to lure them into the pits of despair? Had they actually had a breakthrough? His eyes brimming with tears, Enrique stammered: "We are relatives of her. I haven't heard of her for the longest time, not after that… that big fight with her, when she ran away. You can't imagine the joy we felt when she contacted us. Unfortunately, she refused to give us a clear address, but I would move heaven and earth to find her." while he wrung his fingers as if he didn't quite know what to do with them. The cabbie – whose name was Damian, as written on his jacket when the shoe maker took a closer look at him – looked indecisive for a few seconds, oblivious to the made-up story, but then grinned gently. "How nice to be of help to reunite lost ones. I'm usually not allowed to divulge other clients' data, but since it's Martinsen, I will make an exception…", he admitted. "Thank you! Thank you so very much!", Luisa sobbed feebly.

Feeling drugged with happiness, the Riveras were silent for the rest of the way, either lost in prayer or simply too stunned and exhausted to speak. They were barely aware of how the time and buildings flew by. Miguel was one step closer to getting found, they were sure of it! They dreamed with open eyes about when they would finally be able to hold him in their arms again, celebrating his return… "Ok, that's our destination!", Damian called out as they suddenly came to a halt. He had parked at the entrance of a smaller cluster of buildings and the family descended. "Carmen Martinsen lives in building Nr. 7. You have to go along four houses down this alley, then turn one street to the left. The house numbers are always painted on, so you can't miss it. Hopefully she'll be happy to see you. Good luck.", he explained. "God bless you, young man.", Elena sighed happily, giving him the money for the ride. "Don't mention it, _mamita_. It's my job…", the driver smiled, then he waved them goodbye as the busy traffic of Mexico City swallowed him again. Rosa took Luisa by the hand and laughed, happier than she had been in the last 48 hours, starting to jog along the street. Her aunt gathered her dress and followed close, her laughter merging with Rosa's. The other two trailed behind a little slower. They were so close, so close…

About halfway to house Nr 7, two young people passed them by and Rosa slowed down to take an inconspicuous look at them. The pair were dressed quite provocatively: formfitting leather jackets, tight pants and frilly skirt of a deep red colour and the woman wore high heels that made the girl dizzy just by looking at them. Both were dolled up with makeup. It was not difficult to guess their profession… But it wasn't that what disturbed Miguel's cousin. It was the quiet conversation they were having. The woman was sighing quietly: "I'm getting worried about her, Angel. I mean, she's good and all, but it feels like she's trying to… avoid something, I don't know.", to which the man replied: "I get what you mean, Isa. Carmen… She's special. She's not like anybody I've ever served before…" Then the pair vanished from ear-shot and left a very confused Rosa behind. "What was that about?", she whispered to herself. All of a sudden, she felt rather tense the more they approached the house and a tiny dark voice in her head told her that perhaps it had not been the right call to come here. Then her eyes fell upon the overjoyed face of Luisa and she cursed herself for even thinking about taking that chance away from her.

A minute later, house Nr. 7 finally came into view. The Riveras anxiously gathered around the door and pressed the bell. A shrill ring broke through the silence and the tension. They waited for a moment, but nobody opened. "Alright, this doesn't have to mean anything…", Enrique said quietly and pressed the bell again. Nothing moved behind the red-painted entrance to the house. "Maybe she's not home? Or she is taking a shower?", Elena whispered. "No, she is home. These hookers have just left her a couple minutes ago.", Rosa thought, but didn't respond out loud. It was only after a third hesitant ring that they heard movement. "Coming!", a voice said forcefully. The door finally opened and… to say the family was shocked was a little understatement. The jaws of Miguel's parents dropped slightly, Elena clamped her hands on her mouth with a squeak and you could almost hear the blood rushing into Rosa's cheeks.

The Carmen they had in front of them had close to nothing to do with the picture they carried. The only thing recognizable were her tanned skin and her strong-jawed face. Emerald green eyes zoomed in an out of focus, but looked at them with a mix of curiosity and distrust. Her once long braided hair was now cropped to shoulder length and untamed as if she hadn't cared to run a comb through it for days. Several strands stood out in at least three different directions. The young woman wore a studded choker with a golden cross hanging from a chain around her neck. She had covered her chest with a black and red flannel crop top that didn't cover much else and left her brown stomach to view. Beyond that, Carmen wore short yoga shorts that hung low on her hips and which made Rosa quickly look further down. A golden anklet flashed on top of her white sneakers. Carmen Martinsen cocked her head and asked them with a quiet husky voice: "Can I help you?"

0-0-0

EN: HA! FINALLY! Baby let go of its mother's hand! It. Is. Done! Now that… that must have been the most difficult chapter I've written in a long time. Words simply didn't want to come!

Just coming to my mind as well was the fact that I didn't bother to give the translation of the Spanglish that's spoken in here. Of course, I'll keep that in mind and will thus give you a list of terms and translations that I used from now on. I will leave those down below for this chapter:

Mocoso = brat

Por favor = please

Familia = family

Tía = aunt

Querida = dear, darling

Abuelita = grandmother

Mamá = mother

Bebé = baby

Compadre = buddy, dude

Señora = miss, lady

Nada = nothing

Campesinos = peasants, country folk

La muerta loca = The crazy dead lady

Peque = short form for pequeña/o, which means little one

Mamita = mommy, but as a cute nickname

Luchador = Mexican fighter

Furthermore, I am in no way an expert on jurisdiction and the legal proceedings if there's a missing person. I apologize for any legal mistakes I've written, this story is just for fun.

In the next chapter we'll focus on who that enigmatic Carmen is and we'll take a look at how the dead Riveras plan to cross over to the world of the living.

Apologies for this super super late chapter.

Have fun with it,

Yuna McHill


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